


Taste of Tomorrow

by obsolete_ocelot



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:38:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsolete_ocelot/pseuds/obsolete_ocelot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Begins with a slightly altered ending, though keeps with the original character deaths. Will explore life after the war, Dr. Lightcap's lab in Pittsburgh, and eventually reconstruction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taste of Tomorrow

Mako could feel Raleigh fading beside her, his oxygen depleting and with it his connection to her. 

 _I can’t leave you, Mako_ , he said into the Drift, his voice soft and pleading. Mako wanted to touch him, just once, before she died. She stretched her arm out but it fell short, landing instead on the controls.

 _You can and you will._ Mako pulled out her oxygen hose and gave it to Raleigh. 

“This is your chance to live Raleigh,” she said. Raleigh was a dim warmth in her mind, edged with guilt and sorrow. Going to her death was right if it meant he lived. _We could both live_ , she felt him whisper, _together_. 

She allowed herself a moment to believe this. She ignored the alarms and the chaos and focused on _together_ before punching the override for his escape pod. With a heavy pneumatic hiss, he left her side, sliding out and up to safety and away from her. 

Mako braced herself for the strain of managing the jaeger without Raleigh. It required so much of her attention she had to remind herself to breath. Here she was, the knight before her dragon. She would wreak havoc on the monsters of her nightmares, those destroyers of worlds. She would die for her family, the friends and comrades she lost to the cruelty of monsters, for a brother she knew only from stolen memories. Mako clenched her jaw and let the anger well in her.

 _You cannot bring that level of emotion into the drift Mako,_ she heard _sensei_ say again. What he hadn’t told her was how it could fuel a lone pilot into a last act of defiance. It would tear her apart, but she was already in a hundred pieces. She would not fail _sensei_ now. With clumsy hands she punched in the self-destruct sequence.

Had she breath to spare she might have laughed at the flashing LEDs telling her one more step before the end. One more trial.  At least it would allow a proper farewell for Gipsy, an affection she was unable to show Raleigh.

Her limbs were thick and twice she nearly fell to death. But she knew Gipsy better than anyone, save perhaps Tendo. They would go together, the jaeger and her pilot. But not before she took the Breach out. Mako pulled herself up once more and crawled the last meter to the floor panel. She wrenched it open and with heavy hands twisted the gears to self destruct. 

“Self-destruct initiated,” announced the computer, distorted by the damage. Mako stumbled back to the conpod harness, locking herself in place before the escape pod sequence could begin. There might still be a chance. Gipsy managed one last burst of power, pointing her toward the Breach, faithful as ever. As the dark closed in around Mako, she looked out to the Anteverse. There were colors for which she had no name. Organic masses she took to be a city or perhaps the grounds for creation. Kaiju half formed and more massive and terrible than the ones she fought. She closed her eyes and asked only for peace.

* * *

The sky was a piercing shade of blue. It ached, cutting through the plastic visor of the escape pod and then Raleigh’s eyelids as the pod opened. He did not wish to move. If, when, he did, he would have to admit that he was alone once more. Left behind to live. He wanted to laugh bitterly or cry softly. Instead he crawled out of the pod, crouching on its hull. 

Soon the helicopters would descend, loud and life affirming. The green tracking dye billowed out into the water, entrancing. Statistically speaking if the kaiju didn’t kill you straight away, you drowned to death. Cherno Alpha hadn’t even had an escape pod. The Kaidonoskys and the Wei Tang brothers all died together. Raleigh couldn’t even get that part right. He could feel that edge of despair. He had fallen into it when Yancy died, echoing his brother’s fear and panic, compounding his own grief. He could feel Mako’s fear, but more than that her relief. She had given him this - life and the piercing blue sky. 

Suddenly the water churned a few meters away. If there was a pod, there was still a chance. He dove into the water, its cold grasp a punch in the gut. With short powerful strokes he was at her side. Once he pulled himself up he could see her lax face through the panel. He felt suddenly giddy, as though he were some prince and she a sleeping beauty and all he needed to do was kiss her and she would wake. But she wasn’t moving, she’d given him her oxygen. She could still be dead. Frantic, Raleigh pulled at the manual release and pulled off her helmet. 

“Mako,” he said.

Still she didn’t move.

“Come on Mako,” His hands, numb and shaking, searched for a pulse on her throat. “I can’t find a pulse,” his voice trembled but he wasn’t sure. She might still respond to CPR. He pulled her out of her chamber, slim body light in his arms as he murmured his grief. “Mako, you can’t, don’t leave me, Mako, please.”

 _Together._ The one word rebounded in Raleigh’s mind as though he and Mako were still connected through the drift. He broke from his embrace to look at her, serious eyes staring back. 

“Raleigh,” she said and began to cough. He laughed and hugged her tighter. The helicopters swarmed above them, making conversation impossible. Raleigh smiled and rested his forehead against Mako’s. Exhaling he closed his eyes, his doubts and demons quiet for once.

* * *

Mako was quiet on the way back to the Shatterdome. She and Raleigh were huddled together beneath a blanket, hands intertwined. More than anything, she was exhausted. The adrenaline and ticking clock that had fueled her were gone, leaving her empty. Now she was overwhelmed with a deep fatigue peppered with the raw circuit burns on her body and muscle strain from back to back piloting. Raleigh’s thumb kept making small circles on the back of her hand. 

An echo of the drift pulsed through her chest, something warm and hazy. 

 _You can always find me in the drift_ , she heard _sensei_ say again. Mako stared at the slate grey Pacific and leaned in closer to Raleigh.

When they landed the whole of the Shatterdome descended upon them. Herc, with his broken arm and quiet eyes, was able to spirit Mako away from the noise. Mako knew that Raleigh wouldn’t be far behind, tied up in a triple hug from Tendo and her wife and their young son. He was crying and laughing at the same time.

“He would’ve been proud of you, Mako,” Herc said, his voice low and gruff, just barely contained. Mako bowed her head. She had managed not to cry en route, but now her eyes brimmed with tears.

“I don’t know if I can make it without him,” she whispered. Herc wrapped her in a gentle embrace and Mako wondered if he wished his son in her place. She wondered if she wished for that as well.

“You can and you will, because that’s what Pentecost would’ve wanted,” he told her.

“I’m so sorry, Herc,” she said crying into his shoulder, “I’m so sorry.”

He held her until the sobs subsided and when they parted his eyes were not dry. He left to mourn his son and she to mourn her father.

Mako made her way to the prep room out of force of habit to dismantle her suit. It didn’t dawn on her that it would be devoid of anyone to help her disrobe until she arrived. She struggled for a moment, but gave up quickly, slumping to the floor near a locker. It was Sasha’s. It probably still had her jacket in it, the one that smelled like diesel and smoke. The one she only ever took off except to pilot Cherno or fight in the Kwoon. Mako had rarely interacted with the Kaidonovskys, they made her feel small and childish with her blue tipped hair. But now she felt a spur of sorrow that she’d never be able to speak with Sasha again.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Mako startled at Raleigh’s voice and scrambled to her feet.

“Do you need some help?” His smile was hesitant and Mako nodded.

They were clumsy, having never removed the armor themselves. Once the thick outer layer was removed the padding and neoprene circuitry suit were easy enough to handle alone.

“How did you know I’d be here?” Mako asked, turning away as Raleigh peeled off his suit. The paramedics in the helicopters had cleared her of any immediate concerns, but she knew that she’d have scars to match Raleigh’s, not to mention the effects of taking control of Gipsy alone, even briefly. She had promised the doctors an array of tests as long as they left her alone for one night.

“I guessed,” he said. Quickly she peeled off her own suit, cringing as the cauterized skin was disturbed. She pulled out her PPDC issued uniform, searching for comfort in the regulation navy blue and thick canvas. On top of the neatly folded pile lay two sets of tags. She knew before looking that one was Stacker’s. She clenched it in her hand until the biting pain of metal against skin brought her back to earth, angry that he went to his death, angry that he wouldn’t let her follow.

Again that pulse of the drift, a hangover from Gipsy, coursed through her body. He touched her bare shoulder, fingers light on her skin.

“You need to see the medics,” he said,.

“I’m fine, Raleigh,” she said, pulling on her slacks and then her top. Distantly she remembered she was supposed to be modest, but social niceties felt like nonsense now that she’d seen death, that she knew he had as well.  She gathered her remaining clothing and tried to push past him.

“Mako,” he said, a hand on her elbow, more of a suggestion than anything. Mako bit her lip.

“I just want to sleep,” she said softly. She tried not to look him in the eye, afraid of what she’d find. He dropped his hand and she padded barefoot down the hallway.

* * *

Raleigh sat in the middle of the raucous crowd of the mess hall. The party had migrated and brought him with it. Dr. Gottlieb and Newt were arguing, still managing to finish each other’s sentences, all smiles behind the snark. A thought tugged at Raleigh’s mind, as though he’d forgotten something. Herc slipped into the seat next to him as Raleigh took a swig of beer, some toxic brew Tendo had been making on the hush in engineering.

“As I was saying,” Newt continued, his voice nasal and more insistent then before. Raleigh winced as Newt pointed to Gottlieb, beer flying from his cup. “Hermann, how many have you had? We need more beer Tendo! Hermann needs more beer!” 

Tendo cheered from the other table, passing a tankard over. Hermann shrank in his seat, nursing his first cup. Newt slapped him on the back and enthusiastically poured more.

“We’re fucking rockstars, Hermann!” He shouted, then drained his cup. Hermann nodded tersely and sipped at the bitter brew.

“Quite a gathering,” Herc said to Raleigh.

“The PPDC always knew how to have a good time. When they got the chance.” Raleigh commented dryly, staring at his own warm beer.

“You’re allowed to have a good time, Raleigh,” Herc said.

Raleigh looked over at his commanding officer. He was old for a Ranger. There was no telling how many funerals and memorial services he had been to during his service. He knew what it meant to lose someone in action. 

“I could say the same to you, sir.” Herc slapped him on his back.

“There’s no more PPDC, Raleigh. No need to call me sir.”

“What’s going to happen now?”

“They’ll rebuild, move on with petty politics, forget,” Herc said.

“Some won’t, some can’t.”

Herc nodded in agreement, eying the tankard. Raleigh drained his drink. 

The scientists were deep in discussion, gesturing passionately. It was so technical it could have been a foreign language for all Raleigh understood. One could barely complete a thought before the other interjected. That first time was always a rush, he thought. 

“I’m turning in,” he announced, waving off the protests. Herc caught up to him in the empty hall.

“We’ve all lost someone, Becket. You know what that can do to a person,” he said awkwardly. “We’ve all got our ghosts and our regrets.”

“Is there a difference?”

“If there is one, I’ve never been able to tell.” Herc shook his head, as though to throw off his thoughts. “The PPCD, war - it’s all she’s known, Becket.”

Raleigh gave him a level look.

“Then she’s better prepared than most. Good night, sir,” he said and left Herc.

Raleigh wandered the halls, passing like a shade through the lives of others. He tried to avoid the busier floors, where he could hear off key singing, people laughing or crying. He saw Tendo with her sleeping son in her lap. Her wife leaned against her side, softly stroking Tendo’s knee as if to reassure herself that it was real. Raleigh slipped by without notice, visiting the darkened Kwoon and the scaffolding by Gipsy’s bay, as if lead by an invisible string. He passed by the lab, drawn in by soft crying and reassuring murmurs. He could make out two forms in the dim light, so close that it was hard to distinguish one from the other. Raleigh left the scientists to each other’s comfort. He didn’t see Herc again.

Finally, his roaming brought him back to his bunk, across the way from Mako. He wanted to knock on her door, tell her that the first night is never the hardest. It’s that first morning that hurts the most, when you wake thinking they’re still there only to lose them again a moment later. But he didn’t because Herc was right, he knew what it felt like to have that guiding light extinguished. She’d come to him when she was ready. He could wait.

* * *

There were too many ghosts in the air for Mako to sleep. Fatigue biting at her heels and the back of her eyes she left the solid reassurance of Raleigh and visited her old life once more. The Kwoon was dark and warm, smelling of sweat and plastic. She avoided the mats, skirting the edges and the memories. Stacker had taught her how to control her anger and frustration in rooms exactly like this as they traveled the Pacific coast. She slipped from the room and to the scaffolding to stare at Gipsy’s empty bay. Mako had never been one for large groups, she told herself as she pulled on her socks and shoes, carefully buttoning her shirt.

When Tamsin was still alive, when Tamsin and _sensei_ were both still alive, and Mako would visit, she tried let herself be just another girl, not some agent of vengeance. Not that Tamsin ever did ordinary things, but she and Stacker were the fixed points in the ever changing scenery of Shatterdomes and coastal cities ravaged by monsters. Mako laughed more when she was with Tamsin. Even Stacker would laugh, a deep resounding noise that filled the room. Tamsin was the only person who could make him do that. 

It was Tamsin’s idea to bleach Mako’s thick hair, listening for the sound of Stacker returning from a meeting over Pink Floyd. That was the summer before she got worse, when they all held out hope that it would get better. Mako had giggled nervously when Tamsin pulled out the dyes, eyes slipping past the pink and the orange to land finally on the blue.

“It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission,” she’d said with a wink. Mako would not have had the courage otherwise.

When Stacker had returned and shook his head, Tamsin threw the empty box of dye at him.

“It’s childish,” he had said and Mako bent her head in embarrassment.

“It’s an indulgence, Stacks. She’s just a kid, she deserves a chance to be one,” Tamsin had shouted back and Stacker threw up his arms in defeat.

Five years later and Mako had never gotten rid of them. After Tamsin’s funeral, Stacker had stopped making noises when she ordered the dye. Instead he would hug her, a rare occurrence even before she joined the academy.

Heavy with memories, Mako made her way back to her bunk, skirting the groups of celebrators. Strangely enough, the lights in _sensei’s_ quarters were on and the door cracked open. She peered inside, anger piercing through the thick wall of grief. At the sight of Herc, slumped against the wall crying into one of Stacker’s jackets, her anger dissipated.

“Mako,” he said, swiping at his face, not even attempting to get up. Stacker’s personal stash of whiskey was nearly gone, Herc’s state evidence to who had drunk it. She picked up the bottle and slid down beside him. Stacker’s office was serene, with its gently lapping waters and vista.

“Did he know?” she asked, relishing the slow burning path the spirits made down her throat.

“Which he? My son or my commander?” 

Mako shrugged, taking another swig.

“I didn’t even know until they were both gone. No one left to tell now. Nothing left but everything I never said.”

Mako sat in silence, taking sips of the whiskey.

“It doesn’t get any easier, does it?” She finally said, remembering the pain of Stacker’s death, the sharp terror of Tokyo, Tamsin’s slow goodbye. Herc hung his head, shoulders shaking. She stayed for a while, sharing the numb warmth of whiskey with Herc in silence, until a gentle tug on her mind brought her back. She sighed heavily, patting Herc on the knee as she stood.

“You can always find him in the drift,” Mako said, though whether to herself or Herc she wasn’t certain.

She tried to sleep, grasping for the heavy weight of unconsciousness, but the dark was too still and lonely, a pair of red shoes and promises of the past looming over her. She hadn't been able to save him, his last request. Closing the breach almost seemed pointless without Stacker beside her. Almost.

Mako pulled on her sweater over her pajamas and padded across the hallways. When she knocked on Raleigh’s door it opened immediately, as if he had been waiting for her. Maybe he had. He didn’t say anything when she slipped beneath his covers, just crawled in beside her and kissed the back of her head. That single touch cut a cord of tension that Mako had hoped to free with solitude and spirits. It was enough to bring the tears back, soaking the pillow, a weakness reserved for a dark room. Raleigh stroked her back, soft and reassuring, his breath warm against her neck until she finally fell asleep.


End file.
